


Why are You Still Up?

by die_Frau



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Post-Career of Evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:57:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_Frau/pseuds/die_Frau
Summary: Cormoran comes home from a case and finds Robin still awake in his flat. All very cute but hopefully not too cutesy. I wrote this while not being able to sleep myself, so apologies for any repetition or errors.If the name of the wharf I chose is really off, please let me know. Britpics appreciated.





	Why are You Still Up?

Strike dragged himself up the stairs to his flat, his right knee screaming in protest after a very long night of surveillance. The fall night had gotten chilly, and he'd been outside for hours. Fortunately he'd gotten the intel he wanted on Jack the Tripper, a man who, while physically clumsy, was indeed skilled in selling his company's privileged information to some very seedy-looking gentlemen who planned on using the information for reasons yet unknown. The fact that they met at 3am in a warehouse near Tilbury suggested they weren't legal ones.

As he reached his door, Strike let out an unconscious exhalation of relief, ready to take his prosthesis off and fling himself into bed, hopefully next to a warm and sleeping Robin. He knew she had had her own long day tailing yet another cheating wife and, considering she knew where the extra key was and now kept her own drawer in his wardrobe (a fact which made him feel oddly elated), she'd probably crashed there rather than going to her own little bedsit. He opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb her if she had stayed over. As he walked into the flat, his eyes went immediately toward the bed. Robin lay half-sitting up in his bed with her laptop open on her legs, the light on his bedside table still on. He chuckled and shook his head, locking the door and hanging up his trench coat before heading over to her. She smiled as he approached, red-gold hair spilling over her shoulders as she quickly shut down the laptop and put it carefully on the floor just tucked under the bed. 

"Hey, why are you still up? You knew I'd probably be late and you should be asleep, love," he chided her gently, his voice laced with caring concern as he plunked down on the side of the bed. He noticed she was wearing one of his older, softer t-shirts and it gave his heart a little pang; he loved when she did that. He didn't know if she'd yet noticed he tended to then wear the shirt himself under a long-sleeved shirt or jumper the next day to keep her close in some fashion, the scent of her perfume lingering. Considering this _was_ Robin, she probably had and said nothing about it, letting him keep his small, intimate ritual to himself but deliberately putting on the shirt. 

"Ugh, I started to fall asleep at 8:45 and then woke up--needed a pee," she replied, yawning widely. "Besides, I can't sleep as well when you're not here," she admitted with endearing honesty. "It's like that old Police song: The bed's too big without you."

Her response filled him with tenderness, and he stroked her hair as he leaned in for another kiss, then drew back and simply gazed at her, still mildly awed that she was here and he could kiss her whenever he wanted to. She smiled at him again tiredly.

"Now, get that prosthesis off, brush your teeth, and get in here so I can finally pass out properly," she ordered with mock sternness. 

"Can't I skip the teeth-brushing?" Strike asked plaintively.

"Tell me you didn't go through half a pack of fags and at least three bags of some kind of horrendous flavored crisps," she replied. 

"Oi, only two bags," he said defensively, but his eyes shone with humor. He quickly went to brush his teeth and ready himself for bed, grinning that Robin knew him so well. Clad in a clean t-shirt and boxers, he went through the motions of detaching his leg and finally, finally pulled back the covers, groaning in relief as his body made contact with the mattress. Robin giggled as he pulled the duvet up around them, the cold air from the slightly open window contrasting with her soft, pliant warmth. Strike was too tired to do anything more than turn them both on their left sides and curl his body around hers as he gathered her close, her back against his broad chest. Robin gave her own contented sigh as he threaded his right hand through hers, settling them into the pillows. 

"See, _now_ I can go to sleep properly." she murmured, halfway there already. Strike inhaled her scent and kissed her hair.

"I know what you mean," he replied softly. 

Five minutes later, they were both dreaming.


End file.
